The 4th
by Cristin Barr
Summary: They wanted to play god and did so. They played with Mother Nature and paid the price. Their reign... HIS reign fell like the crumbling ashes of the enflamed Potter's domicile in its last hours.
1. To Be God

Before I write a few things about this chapter. I've like to thank an old/no longer friend for helping me out on writing this. Samantha R. If anyone would like to look at her work her pen name is _Nitwit Blubber Oddment Tweak. _And I wish her the best of luck in whatever she does. Now that I've send that. Onto the chapter... All death Eaters and his dark lordship, belong to J.K. Rowling, who's richer than the queen at the moment and that Samantha wrote most of this chapter for me. This whole story was that I'd write it and she'd edit for me etc etc. Anyways, here's the chapter. Please review if you like it or not. Not all review where meant to be nice so if you've got something to say, say it.

**Chapter 1:_ To be God_**

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They wanted to play god and did so. They played with Mother Nature and paid the price. Their reign... HIS reign fell like the crumbling ashes of the enflamed Potter's domicile in its last hours. 

In an attempt to make clones of themselves, faster, quick-minded, and all out clever, but they failed… For instead of making clones of themselves, they created a whole new race (In a matter of speaking). Something went wrong. The clone babies resembled them but, they weren't male. They were female… 

"But only four of you will receive the honor of taking part in this procedure." Came the hiss of a dark voice from the unlit corner. "Four with concrete qualities that can be valued treasured and drastically improved upon. I have been watching you, each and every one, and though you perhaps had not realized, I was testing you. There are only four slots to fill and I know now which four will fill it quite substantially." 

The circle of cloaked and masked figures shuddered visibly, some eyes darting between other figures present, some to their master, though none could completely look him in the eye. 

The white lips of the face hidden in the shadows stretched into an elusive grin. They were intimidated. Good. Excellent. 

"Lucius." The name rolled off his tongue surreptitiously as his eyes, deep scarlet, the colour of blood, watched one of the taller strongly built, cloaked figures started suddenly as though not used to being addressed, then step forward with an air of grace about him. "Lucius Malfoy. My inside man. You can be trusted, can you not?" 

There was a slight incline of the head behind the hood and mask of the caped figure poised ahead of the rest. 

"Yes master," replied the cool silky voice of the man standing forward, Lucius. "My Lord can trust my unfailing secrecy and reliability with the key to evolution, the secrets of life, the power to control destruction." 

And inquisitive eyebrow was raised at this from the interrogator. 

"It seems as though this is the perfect test, Lucius. For your master might just have to trust you with each and every one of those things." He turned to direct his next speech to the rest of the gathering. "It is a great responsibility to take on such a goal as this, advancing human evolution, tampering with it, creating the ultimate beings. Ask yourselves, 'what would I, as a loyal servant, be willing to give up?' for such a gift does not come without a price." 

There was some muffled mumbling and shifting through the crowd, but Lucius remained erect and standing as tall as he ever had since the beginning. 

"Are you ready to bear the bulk of responsibility, Lucius?" The hiss shot in Lucius' direction caught him slightly off guard, but he was quick-witted. 

"Yes My Lord, indeed I am." His response was simple, short and concise this time and received the desired effect. 

"Very well Lucius, stay where you are, I will have more to discuss with you later." 

There was a pause, before the voice continued. 

"Wilton Lestrange." 

A murmur spread through the coterie like a wave as a short, stout man took his place next to Lucius, in front of the query. 

"Always a faithful one, Lestrange?" 

"My loyalty shall not and will never waver My Lord." Came the growling reply. 

"Indeed, you certainly seem determined of that." This was said in a slightly amused tone. "You will follow Lucius in our staggered yearly procedure, I daresay your 'experiment' will certainly turn out to be an _interesting_ one…" 

He trailed off as his eyes scaled each person in the crowd. Each face, even though it was not clearly visible to the naked eye, its spasm of discomfort he could read into them. 

"Igor Karkaroff." He announced quite suddenly as though he had suddenly come to a great conclusion. 

This time, completely caught on the spur of the moment, the lofty wiry man with broad shoulder whom was clearly Igor Karkaroff jumped nearly a foot into the air, but quickly regained his composure and stepped up on Lucius' other side, puffing out his chest as though being inspected. 

"You are to be headmaster of Durmstrang delegation in the near future, true?" 

The reply was simply a curt nod as though Karkaroff had quite suddenly lost his voice. 

"You will be of much use to me in the near future Karkaroff. Soon…" 

Karkaroff hardly moved. 

"And finally…" A long powerful, pointed finger appeared from the abyss and rested before a small, quivering young soul. "Wormtail." 

There was a strong burst of conversation following this, most of it heated and angry. The mask, disguising the round, boyish face turned as he looked on in fear with shining eyes as the others glared on in his direction. 

"You are whom's servant Wormtail?" 

There was a small squeak but nothing more uttered from whom it concerned. 

"WHO IS YOUR MASTER!?" 

Everyone in the circuit winced as the roar echoed off the walls. 

The man, Wormtail, flung himself at his masters' feet, breaking the circle, trebling as he quivered on the floor. 

"You are! My master, my lord!" Came the strangled reply. 

"That's right." The voice had now cooled down from its heated bellow. "You will be my fourth, and last stage of the operation Wormtail, appreciate the gift." 

Immediately, Wormtail went about avidly kissing the hem of his master's robes, 

"Oh I am My Lord! Eternally in your debt, appreciative to the end of-" He lost his wind as he received a sharp kick in the ribs. 

"There is no need to exaggerate Wormtail, now stand and join your fellow accomplices." 

Wormtail obeyed his command and quickly stood, taking up Lestranges' other side. 

"Get a good look at these men." 

The master projected throughout the entire hall. "For within the next four years you will be seeing little of them. Whilst you are all about killing off muggles and causing chaos, they will be working out the most elaborate, complex scheme of the universe! Model after them and remember what qualities they hold. You will envy them, and on occasion be grateful NOT to be them, but remember this my minions: You do not truly know faith until everything could be lost for it." 

But something happened… 


	2. The Power of Life

**Chapter 2: _The Power of Life_**

The plan was simple, using the four selected Death Eaters; they would make the next generation of the reign. DNA was one of the things these four men were needed for. Each year, a baby clone would be born into the world of pain and torture. To make these clones, they would use something near a Polyjuice Potion. 

Severus Snape was the Potions Master. He was to organize the entire creation process. He would need the following from each of the exclusive: Hair, blood, semen, and measurements, to originate a clone. For if the ingredients weren't measured right, the clone could become deformed... 

"Lucius, do you have that sample for me yet?" Severus Snape inquired from the other side of a closed door as he tapped his foot impatiently. He didn't have long to wait, for next minute, Lucius strolled out and handed him the small phial. 

"Well, that was refreshing" He commented casually, brushing his long spindly fingers through his short blonde hair before flashing Snape a smirk. Snape just gave him a curled lip of disgust before Lucius sat down with the other three men to watch the process-taking place. 

Severus Snape zoomed from one end of the room to another, mixing this with that, pouring blue with red... 

Snape stood behind a large circular tank of water. He had to be careful or something could go wrong. And he knew for one, Voldemort would _not_ take kindly to miscalculations. Slowly and carefully he poured the samples in, then, the moment of truth, picking up a green solution he poured it into the tank. Now, all that was left was to wait. 

Two of the four men sitting in the four straight-backed armchairs-Wormtail and Karkaroff-leaned forward in their seats. 

A great puff of smoke emitted from the tankard, but soon disintegrated to the potion again. All five pairs of eyes watched as the potion turned blood red, then fluorescent yellow and then finally, light blue. Once the smoke cleared, a miniscule egg (like that in a woman's uterus) could be seen floating in the middle of the tank. Lucius watched as a sample of his semen poked its way into the egg. A new life was being actualized before his very eyes. The process had begun… 

Nine months following The Procedure, the infant clone was born. Lucius held the small baby in his arms. It looked up at him with innocent silver eyes, and even possessed a bit of its father's blonde hair in a soft tuft on top of its head. 

Lucius didn't have long with his little 'clone' though, for Snape snatched the child away almost immediately to check it over, and make sure everything had gone according to plan. His black eyes widened, as his pupils disappeared into his irises. Lucius watched as Snape rushed over to his notes and calculations, tearing at his hair and looking worried. 

"Something wrong?" Lucius asked lazily, leaning back against one of Snape's many Potions cabinets. 

"Something wrong? **SOMETHING WRONG?!?!?!**" Snape realized he sounded quite hysterical and quickly cleared his throat. 

"Is there something _wrong_ with the child, Snape?" Whispered an elusive voice in Snape's ear. 

"Master!" Snape shouted in a startled manner, spinning around. 

"Well?" The dominating figure beneath the masking cloak placed his hands on his hips. 

Snape strode over to the hardwood table were the child was sitting upright already, making elaborate finger puppet shadows on the opposite wall. A piece of cloth sheltered its delicate body. Snape picked up the young child and brought it over to his master, lifting aside the piece of cloth to reveal the baby was... 

"Female..." The master hissed. 

"I don't know what went wrong." Snape started stuttering quite desperately, "All the calculations were just right and-" 

"Relax, this has never been done before." His master reassured, "It does not matter. Continue on the other three. Child #1, will be trained once old enough." 

"Yes master." Snape swept off, the child blinking in his arms… 

* 

The same thing happened with children numbers 2 & 3 as did with Child #1, all three turning out to be female. To Snape's awe, Voldemort wasn't infuriated with this, rather short of it actually. It seemed he was enjoying this, the clones turning out to be women. 

"You must be on your feet at all times!" Lucius lectured as he tried to nick his determined four-year-old female clone, with his battle sword. 

Child #1 leapt into the air, long blonde hair flying out behind her, silver eyes flashing in the heat of the battle. Once she landed behind Lucius, she swung her sword around to his back, only to miss, slicing into thin air. Lucius had ducked away as she had jumped and stood behind her now, the tip of his blade pressed dangerously against her neck. 

"Always study and anticipate your opponent's moves, or it will be your down fall" 

* 

Child #2, three years of age, was dark skinned had black curly hair, and rich bronze-coloured eyes, buried behind the face of concentration. 

Wilton Lestrange listened as his female re-incarnation played an exceptionally difficult, impossibly expeditious piece on the piano. Her diminutive premature fingers had to fly to reach all the correct notes in accurate rhythm. 

"Your E's are flat, the composition was written in D_ major _foolish child!" Wilton reproved as Child #2 began her piece once again, sans flat E's. 

She was enforced in the playing of the piano. Whenever she hit a key, one could feel the energy in every note. She was resolute and much like her father wouldn't cease in practice until she had accomplished her goal with complete perfection. She would often keep herself up, late into the evenings and early mornings practicing her music and extensive knowledge, for those were the two qualities the Lestrange's prided in most. 

* 

Child #3 had blown, chestnut, wavy hair, a soft complexion, and an innocent portrayal. 

But, for a two-year old, attacking a stuffed dummy with a sharpened stick didn't seem remotely innocent. 

"HARDER!" Igor Karkaroff bellowed at his feminine offspring, as she had to yet make a slice in the dummy's thick material. "Let your energy flow through your body and… STRIKE!" 

"AAAAAAARGH!" The child leapt into the air with a valiant battle cry, and as she landed, brought the stick down, cutting the dummy right down the middle. At first there was no movement, expect for the panted breathing of the third child, but it was only moments before, with a soft "Thump" the dummy split right in two, both flanks falling aside, contents spilling forth from the victims' open gut. 

"Getting there." Igor whisked the debris away with a flick of his wand. "Now let's see you try your hand at the bow…" 

* 


End file.
